The Vast Abyss Part 94

That night Pete's eyes opened, and he began talking rapidly about falling trees and sand, and the black darkness; but his grandmother, worn-out with watching, had fallen asleep, and there was no one to hearken but the dog, which reached over every now and then to lick his face or hands.

And at the touch the injured, delirious lad grew calmer, to drop off into his feverish sleep again, while, when Tom came early the next morning, it was to meet the doctor coming away.

"Don't go in," he said; "you can do no good; quiet and time are the only remedies for him.--Ah, good-morning, Mr Maxted."

For the Vicar was up early too, and had come to see after his worst paris.h.i.+oner.

"Good-morning, doctor. May I go in?"

"Yes, if you will be quiet."

The Vicar stole in, stayed for some time, and then came out as silently as he had gone in, to look inquiringly at the doctor.

"You think he will die?" he said.

"I hope not," replied the doctor earnestly. "Not if I can prevent it."

Just then there was another visitor to the cottage in the person of Uncle Richard, while soon after David appeared round the corner, where there was a sharp bend in the lane, having risen and started an hour earlier so as to come round by Mother Warboys', and inquire about the injured lad.

"Don't you go a-thinking that I keer a nutsh.e.l.l about Pete Warboys, Master Tom," said David, as he was looking into the cottage with the boy by his side, "because I don't, and it sims to me as the fewer Pete Warboyses there is in the world the better we should be. It warn't him I come about's mornin'--not Pete, you know, but the lad as had had an accident, and got nearly killed. See?"

"Yes, I see, David," said Tom, nodding his head.

"It's him as has got the friends--the young accident--not Pete. Say, Master Tom?"

"Yes."

"If Pete Warboys dies--"

"Hus.h.!.+ don't talk about it," cried Tom in horror.

"Oh, cert'ny not, sir, if you don't wish me to. May I talk about the dog?"

"Oh yes, of course," cried Tom, as he looked round at the bright, smiling earth, glittering with diamond-like dew, and thought how terrible it would be for one so young to be s.n.a.t.c.hed away.

"Well, sir, I was thinking a deal about that dog last night, for I couldn't sleep, being a bit overcome like."

"Yes, I was awake a long time," said Tom, with a sigh.

"Not so long as I was, sir, I'll bet a bewry pear. Well, sir, I lay a-thinking that if--mind, I only says if, sir--if Pete Warboys was to die, how would it be, if master didn't say no, and I was to knock him up a barrel for a kennel to live in our yard?"

"I should ask uncle to let me keep him, David, for he's a wonderful dog."

"I don't go so far as that, sir, for he's a dog as has had a horful bad eddication, but something might be made of him; and it was a pity, seeing why he came yowling about our place, as you was so handy heaving stones at him."

"What?" cried Tom indignantly.

"Well, sir, p'r'aps it was me. But it weer a pity, warn't it?"

"Brutal," cried Tom.

"Ah, it weer. He's a horful hugly dog though."

"Not handsome certainly," replied Tom.

"That he arn't, sir, nowheres. But if he was fed reg'lar like, so as to alter his shape, and I took off part of his ears, and about half his tail, he might be made to look respectable."

"Rubbis.h.!.+" cried Tom.

"Oh no, it arn't, sir. Dogs can be wonderfully improved. But what do you say to askin' cook to save the bits and bones while there's no one to feed him? I'll take 'em every day as I go home from work. What do you say?"

"Yes, of course," cried Tom; and from that day the ugly mongrel was regularly fed, but after the first feeding it did not trouble David to take the food, but left its master's side about three o'clock every afternoon, and came and fetched the food itself.

"Which it's only nat'ral," said David, with a grim smile; "for if ever I did see a dog as had ribs that looked as if they'd been grown into a basket to hold meat, that dog is Pete Warboys'; but I hope as good meat and bones 'll do something to make his hair grow decent, for he's a reg'lar worser as he is."

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.

It was about a fortnight after the accident, that Tom was returning one day from Mother Warboys' cottage, where the old woman had sat scowling at him, while Pete lay back perfectly helpless, and smiled faintly at his visitor, when he met Mrs Fidler by the gate looking out for him.

"There's some one come from London to see you, Master Tom."

"From London?"

"Yes, sir; he said his name was Pringle."

"Pringle!" cried Tom eagerly. "Where is he?"

"In the dining-room with your uncle, sir; and I was to send you in as soon as you came back."

Tom hurried in, and found the clerk from Gray's Inn very smartly dressed. His hat was all glossy, and there was a flower in his b.u.t.ton-hole.

"Ah, Pringle," cried the boy, "I'm so glad to see you. This is Pringle, who was so kind to me, uncle, when I was at the office."

"Yes," said Uncle Richard, rather grimly; "Mr Pringle has already introduced himself, and--ahem!--told me of the friendly feeling which existed between you."

The clerk, who had evidently been very uncomfortable, had brightened up a little at the sight of Tom, but his countenance fell again at Uncle Richard's words.

"Now, Mr Pringle, perhaps you will be good enough to repeat that which you have told me--in confidence, for I should like my nephew to hear it, so that he can give his opinion upon the matter."

"Certainly, sir," said Pringle, brightening up, and becoming the sharp-speaking clerk once more. "The fact is, Mr Thomas, I have left Mr Brandon's office--which I won't deceive you, sir, he didn't give me no chance to resign, but in consequence of a misunderstanding with Mr Samuel, because I wouldn't tell lies for him, he sent me off at once."

"I am very sorry, Pringle," said Tom sympathetically.

"So am I, sir," replied the clerk; "and same time, so I ain't. But to business, sir. So long as I was Mr Brandon's clerk, sir, my mouth seemed to be shut, sir; but now I ain't Mr Brandon's clerk, sir, it's open; and feeling, as I did, that there are things that you and your respected uncle ought to hear--"

"About my uncle and cousin?" cried Tom, flus.h.i.+ng.